


Orders

by Jo (jmathieson)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint has orders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orders

**Author's Note:**

> To celebrate having 100 followers on Tumblr, I had them throw prompts at me all day, **thisaintmy1strodeo** asked for: "How about some fly-by hugging, maybe while Phil is on the bridge or in front of important people? Something a little embarrassing?"

"… the minute you get back."

"I will, I promise. Gotta go, transport’s here."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

Three hours later, Clint walked (well, technically, limped) off the transport helicopter onto the deck of the Helicarrier. He had burn marks down one arm, a fat lip and a black eye, concrete dust in his hair, and a sprained knee. As he turned towards the administrative wing, Henderson, who had led the mission said,

"Barton - Medical’s the other way."

"Got something to do first. Orders."

Henderson gave up and shook his head.

When Clint got to the offices, he started asking, “Anyone know where Agent Coulson is?”

"I saw him with Commander Hill, heading for the bridge about five minutes ago." Clint turned and limped away.

He came through the big doors onto the upper level of the bridge and paused, scanning for the familiar figure, and then heading slowly, but purposefully towards him.

"Hey," said a junior officer in his wake, and Phil looked up.

"Excuse me," Phil said to Hill and Fury, and strode quickly towards Clint. Clint slowed when he saw Phil coming, but Phil didn’t slow his pace or stop until he had his arms wrapped around Clint and his nose buried in Clint’s dusty hair.

"You OK?" he asked in a low whisper.

"Fine."

"When the building exploded…"

"I know. I’m OK, Phil."

"OK. Good. Get to medical."

"Yes boss."

Phil gave him a gentle squeeze, then stepped back. He let Clint brush some concrete dust and flakes of ash off his suit jacket. Then Clint grinned, and turned, and limped back towards the doors. Phil squared his shoulders, turned around, and went back to where Fury and Hill were standing.

"Sorry. Where were we?" he asked.

"I was saying that the optimal design for the nanoreflectors…"


End file.
